Page 40 of Agency
Then fingers sliding down through my sparse hair and finding my wetness. Slipping and sliding and grazing my clit, his fingertips passed my sensitive nub by with arch-inducing pleasure as his other hand yanked off my shoes and began to shimmy down my jeans the rest of the way past my ass and hips, exposing more and more of me to him.
Naked skin of my butt pressing to the cool leather of the seat, I tried to remove my arms from their bindings.
He left off stripping me with my jeans barely down my thighs, and his hands went to catch me.
“No,” he growled, fingers from one hand tightening over my wrists as two from the other slipped down between my thighs and began to circle and tease my clit.
Oh my God!
Head thrown back with the pleasure, all I could do was whimper and moan in frustrated and stymied hunger as I tried to spread my thighs against the constricting denim encircling my legs.
“You’re mine till I say otherwise.” More circles of his fingers around my clit, then a flick, then more circles that sent tendrils of pleasure twisting and writhing through my stomach, chest, legs, and bound arms.
Grinding against his hand, I whimpered as his fingers went even tighter on my wrist.
“You’re ours,” he said. “Say it, Candice.”
I moaned in response, my hips speeding up against him. I whimpered again as his fingers stopped moving. I tried to encourage them with more hip gyrations.
“Say it,” he repeated, now pulling his fingers from my jeans.
“I’m yours!”
“Ours,” he growled, his wet fingers teasingly circling my navel area, but already moving lower as if he were making a promise of what their final destination might be.
“Both of yours!”
His fingers returned, even as he purred: “Good girl, Candice. Such a good girl.”
Immediately, I was bucking as the pleasure returned, and I could feel the release within me. Release caused by his touch, by his voice, by the power I was handing over to this sexy, dominant man hovering over me in the backseat of a strange SUV.
His dark eyes were so intense as they bored into me, as they held me like a spear driven into wild game, and all I could do was gasp and moan and spasm at the end of those fingertips as he continued to whisper.
“Good girl, Candice. Cum for me just like that, Candice.”
Fake name, or real, his words still struck the right chord, and my body hummed exactly the key he was playing. The heat welled within, and then the pleasure washed over me as a stuttering moan tore itself from my throat. Hips rising, falling, rising again, as that ecstasy washed over me and his fingers continued to play and tease.
Gasping, I came down from the initial high, my body still playing along with the orchestra he’d struck up. Hands not even trying to escape the seat belt, my fingers grasped at air as his fingers left my clit and he readjusted so he could lift my legs and remove my jeans the rest of the way. Still spearing me with dark eyes, he tossed my denim aside and ran those rough, capable hands up and down the outsides of my smooth legs, up and down, up and down, till he was resting them on my knees.
If lust could have been bottled and sold, I’d have made a fortune by collecting what I saw dripping from his gaze. Strong, palpable, and enough to make my heart climb into my throat, his need for me made me pant for more of his touch as my fingers continued to grasp and struggle at the air.
Then, hands on my knees and eyes still locked on mine, Andrew lifted my ass from the leather seat and spread me with undeniable strength. He began to kiss his way down the inside of my thighs. Wet kiss to one side, wet kiss to the other, back again for another with those full, soft lips. Dark eyes always on mine, lower and lower he moved with each anointment, till I could feel his hot breath over my dampness, and I was urging him with my hips in a silent whimpering plea for his mouth to descend those last few inches.
His eyes closed as he tasted me for the first time.
My eyes closed as he groaned low and hungrily, the tip of his tongue already circling and drawing figure eights over my sensitive nub. “Yes sir,” I said in a near hiss, “right there. Right fucking there.” My pelvis rose, ground my dripping lips against his mouth as his fingers tightened on my hips. “Please, Andrew, please, don’t fucking stop. Make me cum again, sir. Make your little slut cum again.”
Fingers inside me, then, as his other arm braced me from below. Fingers exploring, stretching, pleasuring with their come hither strokes as my abs quivered with the way we were both holding me aloft.
How must this also look for Jericho? To see me, this near complete stranger, tied and bent in his backseat like such a good little begging slut?
Hell, how would I have looked to Morgan? For him to see the woman who had tied him up and made him beg to be pleasured, admitting she belonged to two men for the night as her bound fingers feebly scraped at the SUV’s steamy air?
My abs pulsed and screamed, even as my legs shook, and my mouth cried out. More pleasure, then, and the car shifting and moving, the whole world shifting and moving as I kept my eyes squeezed tight. But always the pleasure within the darkness as I continued to gyrate on Andrew’s expert tongue and mouth. Pleasure, like a wall of ink crashing down on me, subsuming me before turning into a pure, bright light that erased my thoughts and awareness and self as the orgasm poured over my flesh and tissue.
The whole world shifted, then, as I let myself be carried away on the pleasure. Another shift, another pulse, another bit of pleasure as my hips continued to move, and my mouth continued to cry out loud enough that my moans echoed in my own ears.
Then, cool air washing over my face as Andrew lowered me back to the seat. Twitching with the stimulation as if they were tiny shocks of electricity, my system was like every nerve had been exposed… But not before being calibrated to feel only pleasure. Andrew’s lips, then, so soft and full. His hungry mouth on mine, his swirling, greedy tongue plunging into my mouth and tasting me.
